


Lost

by dramady, jeck



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramady/pseuds/dramady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeck/pseuds/jeck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Left behind alone, Daryl and Katniss find a connection that they find nearly fills the gap of those left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost

**Author's Note:**

> This AU/fic is spawned from a panfandom rpg. Katniss was with Peeta and Daryl with Michonne taking care of Sophia. 
> 
> None of the characters belong to us. No profit is made or sought.

The first few days since she woke up alone, Katniss had not left the room. She was there but she wasn't there. Hiding in the closet where her gowns made by Cinna still hung with her other clothes but nothing else.

Nothing.

Not even a small item that would be Peeta's.

More days passed like this until even hiding in the closet couldn't provide comfort anymore.

What Katniss needed was her bow and arrows and the woods. To go out there, run and hunt and scream at the sky.

Outside, in her hunting clothes, hair in a loose braid, bow and a sheath of arrows with her, she ran toward the woods. Her arms, face and neck were scratched from hitting branches as she sped by in a blur and Katniss didn't stop until she lost her footing, slipping, falling, and she stayed there, on the forest floor, holding back tears.

He'd been tracking her for hours and when she fell, Daryl was there. He stood just a few feet away, ready to go or stay, watching her from the corner of his eye.

Michonne and Sophia had been gone for a week. Daryl had gone back to living in the woods. But seeing the girl brought him forward. Here, he crouched down, and he held out a hand.

The boots were familiar even the way he'd stepped forward, Katniss already knew. She lifted her face enough from the dry bed of leaves to be able to see the hand offered. Katniss's brows drew together, the urge to push him away so strong that she had to close her eyes.

A few breaths surrounded by the smell of moist earth and dry leaves and she slowly took it allowing herself to be pulled up.

When she was on her feet, Daryl stepped back, looking her over for injuries. Then he looked at her face, her eyes, and he saw a pain he knew too well. Enough that he had to look away before he looked back.

It surprised her too, the look on his face. Katniss didn't ask. That wasn't how they were. They met in the woods and hunted and divided their spoils sometimes with less than ten words spoken.

She didn't move. Katniss leaned against the nearest tree, a hand on her belly, trying to keep her emotions down.

Daryl nodded toward his camp. He had game to cook and some bread from the bakery. Without waiting he started to walk. If she wanted to follow, she would. He found himself hoping she would.

She did follow with the urge to drag her feet but Katniss had never been toward this part of the woods. She knew he stayed here and kept her distance.

Two dead logs bracketed his camp and his bike made up the third wall. She could sit wherever. Daryl squatted to poke at the fire, coax it to burn again. There were rabbits, ducks and squirrels to choose from for meat. Another look at her, then he went for a rabbit, starting to skin it.

Katniss threw her bow and quiver to the side then she sank on the ground, the log serving to support her back. She didn't move save to watch him skin the rabbit, almost mesmerized at the way his hands moved.

He stuck the rabbit on a stick and Daryl even salted and peppered it. Then he handed the stick to the girl before going for his stash of wild mushrooms.

She scooted closer to the fire, still sitting cross-legged on the ground. After she propped the rabbit on two sticks over the heat, Katniss pulled her knees to her chest. "I can get some katniss roots?" She asked softly.

With a look at her, Daryl nodded. He showed her his mushrooms and wild onions. He didn't ask if she was all right; he knew the answer. Just like he wasn't.

WIth a nod, moving a bit sluggishly, Katniss stood and quietly disappeared through a thicket toward the stream.

She came back barefoot, holding the roots in one hand and her boots in the other. It was always easier using her feet to find them. WIthout being told she sat back down, knife out and cutting up the roots to put over the fire.

They worked in silence together and when all the food was done, it was a meal that was a damned sight better than anything he'd eaten in the bastard motherfucking asshole village. He had metal bowls and she was handed a bowl and a fork as he took one himself, leaning against the log that faced hers over the fire and he started to eat.

She wasn't really eating even though the food smelled good and reminded her a lot of home - which reminded her of Peeta. After a forced bite of rabbit, the juices dripping down her chin, she put them all down, sighing as she looked up at him.

"How long?" She asked, brows drawn.

He shrugged, looking down at his bowl, using the fork as a shovel to eat. But he answered finally, quiet and graveled. "A week."

"Almost two," Katniss offered. She spent too long hiding in the closet with her eyes and ears covered to know exactly.

There really wasn't much to say after that was there? So Katniss took the bowl again and forced herself to eat. She didn't want to go back to the hotel, to their room - no _her_ room. Maybe Daryl would let her scale a tree near here and she could stay there.

It wasn't even a question. Daryl pointed to the other sleeping bag even as he was tossing the bones into the hole he'd dug for waste. Then he was sitting across from her again, his elbows on his knees as the fire crackled between them, dark settling in.

Katniss acknowledged the offer with a nod but then she sank lower on the ground, leaning her head on the log, watching the embers rise from the fire. She sighed again, fingers going to her cheek, brushing a tear away before she scowled. It was stupid if she was going to start to cry.

He didn't say anything, using a twig to pick at his teeth, eyes on the fire to give her some privacy.

When he got tired, he laid down, arm under his head and he stared up at the stars.

It wasn't too long before Katniss pulled the bag and unrolled it on the other side of the fire. But before she turned in, she met Daryl's eyes; that was the goodnight. It was warm enough that she slept over the bag, back to the fire, listening to the sounds of the woods.

Katniss hoped the Daryl's breathing would change, that he'd fall deeply asleep so that she could, too, while not wanting her nightmares to wake him.

But when she screamed, Daryl had her hands in his before she even woke up. He crouched there in the dark and whispered, "it's just a dream, girl. You're scarin' the game away."

It always took long to calm her down and although she knew she was no longer in the dream with mutts killing Peeta, it was hard to come back. Katniss held tightly to his hand, gasping breathlessly with her eyes wide but apologetic staring back at Daryl.

"Breathe, girl. Breathe." Daryl's hands were cool and rough around hers and he held on without shaking, even when she didn't fall back to sleep.

When the sun rose, he picked up his crossbow and gestured for her to get her bow. They'd hunt for breakfast.

Katniss nodded and she picked up her bow, her quiver, slinging it over her shoulder and she followed after him. He was always quiet and each time they did this Katniss would watch his every step, to try to learn how he could move noiselessly. It was something to occupy her mind.

It was something they shared; necessity breeding skill. Together, they took down a deer. Just preparing it took most of the morning and they were both covered in blood and guts. A meal then there was time spent drying some of the meat, burying the rest so that it wouldn't spoil.

When all that was done, Daryl leaned back, tired. He'd head to the stream in a few minutes and wash.

It was good to keep busy and learning, too, since Katniss wasn't one to prepare meat to keep. She always sold them only keeping what she needed. She walked over to Daryl and pointed toward the stream then stretching out her arms. Gutting left a stench she wanted to wash off.

He nodded; he'd let her go first, then he'd go. "Soap's in the saddlebag. A towel too." She could help herself.

"Thanks." Katniss came here not intending to stay in the woods. All she had were her bow and arrows, not even a change of clothes. She picked at the bag, finding what she needed, eyes narrowed on the gun there but she left everything else untouched.

At the stream Katniss took her braid off, fingers brushing through her hair then her clothes followed leaving her in only her underwear and she washed the blood off her clothes first. After pounding it between rocks, she laid them out on boulders to dry. It reminded her of the first Games and of Peeta.

Wading toward the center of the stream, she hoped that it was deep enough for her to sink in, to even take a few strokes, just to stretch her body out and get cleaned up.

While she was bathing, Daryl finished cleaning the camp. And when she still wasn't back, he went into the woods and didn't have to search long to find them.

The Cherokee Roses were on Katniss's sleeping bag when she came back and without waiting Daryl took his turn to the stream.

Both the hunt and the time at the stream made Katniss feel a bit more human. She wondered about the flower, taking it, putting her nose to it and was glad it didn't smell of blood and Snow's unusually strong roses.

It wasn't a dandelion but somehow it made her feel just a little bit of hope. Very little. Because the pain was too deeply etched in her chest.

By the time Daryl would get back Katniss had already started a fire, some of the deer meat already cooking over it.

Somehow, this became a routine. After five straight nights of the nightmares, though, Daryl sat next to her sleeping bag and pet over her hair, like he had when Sophia would have nightmares.

As comforting as that was it didn't stop them from coming. Katniss thrashed and her body jerked, the scream always lodged in her throat. She opened her eyes, abruptly waking, before she was able to pull in a deep, shaking breath.

"I'm sorry … I'm sorry …" Katniss told him, gasping while she gripped his hand tightly, knowing he'd say she was scaring off game.

"You need to sleep, girl," he told her, looking closely at her. "I got some Jack by the bike. You want a shot?"

A shot. It took a while to sink in. He meant a drink and she stared intently at him before nodding. "Okay." Katniss pulled herself to sit, rubbing at her eyes, thinking a drink would be better than a pill that kept her imprisoned in the nightmare.

The bottle was half full. He brought it over, sliding down the log to sit again and he screwed off the lid before he handed it to her. "Don't try to drink too much; you'll just spit it back up."

She was breathing a bit easier now and she scowled at him while taking the bottle. "I've had a drink before." Okay, granted she got drunk and it all went back up in the morning, but Daryl didn't need to know that.

Katniss took a swig, the liquor burning down her throat and she put a hand over her mouth to be able to swallow.

Daryl took a long swig too. Then he held the bottle between them. He was relieved at the burn, too, actually. To feel something. Anything aside from being tired.

It still burned enough that there was heat in her eyes. Katniss rubbed them away but then she was pulling the bottle from Daryl, one finger up from where her hand was around the neck. "One more," she said before putting her lips to the rim and tipping back, taking a generous swallow.

Taking her at her word, Daryl pulled the bottle away, capping it again and stuffing it back into his saddlebag. Then he pushed the heels of his hands to his eyes and rubbed. "What's in them dreams that makes you scream?"

Her breath hitched before Katniss could reply, everything in her nightmares hitting her consciousness all at once. A deep breath then she was telling him about muttations, about those she'd killed, about Prim and Snow and blood and roses in as few words as she could.

"Peeta had them, too but he doesn't scream and thrash like I do." Because he was afraid to lose her but it was he whom she lost.

Shit. Daryl sat there, his elbows on his knees as he listened. Not much to be said about that, was there? Wasn't like he could change it for her. He slid a look her way, though, saying he was sorry that she had to go through that.

Katniss shook her head. He shouldn't be sorry. "I've been having them more since he disappeared," she admitted softly, looking at him apologetically.

"No kiddin'." There Daryl went, smirking a little bit. But he looked over at her. "You think you'll sleep now?"

There was this strong urge to ask him to stay with her, to grab his hand, which Katniss looked at, while hugging her knees to her chest. She shook her head. "You sleep. There's nothing to keep watch but..." She shrugged.

Grunting, Daryl looked at her. "If you ain't gonna sleep, no sense in you sittin' here watchin' me sleep. C'mon." He stood up. "Not like you don't need a shower or nothin'. You stink." If she caught it, there was the tiniest glint of teasing in Daryl's eye.

Katniss scowled at him. "Says the one who reeks from here to the stream." She caught the tease and her lips quirked in a crooked smile she hid by ducking her head, getting up and following. Her footing was a little off. Katniss blamed the drink.

"Don't fall down, girl." Daryl pushed through the darkened woods, leading the way back to the hotel. When they got into the park, he took her arm. In the lobby, he looked at her. His room or hers for a shower?

Katniss was facing the hallway toward her room, and Peeta's, and suddenly she felt like she was choking. Like the walls were closing in. She felt herself get pulled away, her feet following but everything around her felt detached, like she wasn't connected to anything.

Except for the hold on her arm.

Never could tell what would be someone's true breaking point. Was different for everyone. Daryl knew that. He pulled Katniss into his room and closed the door before someone thought he was kidnapping her, then he held her by both shoulders. "C'mon, girl. C'mon." He was waiting for life behind those eyes. "C'mon."

Katniss was set on the edge of the bed and Daryl knelt to take off her boots.

The urge to run and hide was there again. As was the feeling of wanting to just wither away. Which made it all the more confusing because Katniss wasn't sure which way she wanted to go. She stared unblinking at Daryl's hands working first one boot off then her other. Katniss wanted to pull her legs under her and curl up on the bed. Maybe he'd let her.

Nope. Her boots were pulled off and tossed aside, then her socks. After that, Daryl rocked back on his heels and looked up at her. "'m I gonna have to take your clothes off. Cuz I'm guessin' you don't want that, girl."

Katniss shrugged first. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to her prep team seeing her unclothed after a beauty base zero. But then she shook her head, reaching for her braid and pulling the ties off. She ran her fingers through her hair as she stood up to head to the bathroom.

The door was closed and then Daryl would hear the shower running.

Michonne was about the same size as Katniss, so Daryl went to the closet and pulled out a couple things. Since he was alone, he pressed his nose to the clothes to smell them.

They didn't smell like much but clothes. He tossed them on the bed.

She took a long time. A very long time. So long that steam was beginning to seep from the bottom of the door. Katniss sat on the floor of the shower, the water raining down on her and it was the very first time that she allowed herself to cry.

Stupid tears.

After forcing herself to scrub clean she emerged in only a towel wrapped around her skinnier frame, her eyes reddened and swollen but she didn't say anything. It was a good thing that neither did he. Katniss walked toward the bed and saw the clothes there. She sat on the edge, pulling the shirt to her lap and just staring at it, avoiding Daryl's gaze.

"Thank you," she whispered.

She got a shrug. Wasn't like Daryl did anything special. Wasn't even his clothes. He looked at her sidelong and moved past to the bathroom himself to get clean. Might as well since he was here.

The shirt and the pants were loose but Katniss still wore them. Even her own clothes were ill-fitting now. She hadn't really eaten much until Daryl found her in the woods. She sat on the bed, leaning against the headboard, knees drawn to her chest and she was hugging them after she braided her hair again, looking out and staring at nothing.

Shaved, his hair still went when he came out, Daryl had a towel around his waist and went to the closet to get a pair of pants and a shirt. "Guessin' you don't want to stay here," he said, holding them.

Katniss looked up, shrugging a shoulder slowly, but her eyes were intently looking at him. "Do you want to stay?" Because she wouldn't want to be in her room knowing everything would scream in her dreams if she stayed there.

"Fuckin' roach motel," was her answer. Daryl stayed here when Michonne and Sophia were here. No sense in being there now. He got dressed in the closet quickly and he stepped out with socks for them both, tossing her a pair.

She'd heard him say that before and for some odd reason it made one corner of her lips quirk as she caught the socks. Katniss put them on the she shoved her feet back in her boots. She stood up, squaring her shoulders and taking in a slow deep breath like she would before she'd shoot game. "Come on," she urged, not wanting to stay a second longer.

Stuffing his feet back in his boots, Daryl followed and they were out of the motel in no time flat. It was nice to see the stars and he took a deep breath. "You ever been to the beach here?"

Katniss took deeper, easier breaths out here. She looked straight ahead but she was nodding. "A few times."

"C'mon." He headed in that direction.

It was nearing dawn and the moon was reflected in the quiet water. Daryl led the way to the beach and stood just outside the sand. Michonne had brought him here.

Katniss had come here with Peeta and that was what she remembered as they stood there, the breeze blowing, the saltwater she could taste in the air. She scowled, brows drawn staring almost angrily at the water.

"It's easier to get mad," she said, looking down to avoid the beauty of the moon and sea, then she kicked sand up with the toe of her boot. Katniss sighed deeply. "I'm just too tired to get mad." At everything.

"Don't do no good." Of that, Daryl was sure. Didn't mean it wasn't easy. He was good at getting mad. "People, where I'm from? They handcuffed my brother to a pipe 'n left him there. Found out he cut off his hand to get away. He's a tough son of a bitch. Got mad about that, but didn't do no good."

She turned her head, eyes almost squinting and Katniss stared up at Daryl while she took in what she said. How many times had she gotten mad? And yes, it didn't do anything but possibly gotten her in more trouble.

"...at least it would make _me_ feel better." Katniss mumbled, frowning, looking away again knowing he'd say she was whining.

She got a look. "That make you feel better to bitch about shit you can't control?" He shrugged. "Don't see no point in that. Gotta deal with what you got." He kicked off his boots and peeled off his socks and headed out onto the sand.

Katniss knew that. She'd learned that the hard way but there was just so much in her that she wanted to get out, festering on the inside and she didn't know how to deal with it. She mumbled a curse under her breath and then she took her boots and socks off, too, jogging after Daryl on the sand.

The sand was cool from the night and his feet sank in. Daryl trudged forward, unused to the pull of it. He didn't know what he was doing or how, but he was doing it. Maybe this was his tribute.

She wasn't sure what they were doing here, but she followed after him anyway. Katniss tried to keep in step (good thing she had showered and cried the remnants of the drink they shared), walking next to Daryl in silence, watching him carefully.

Stopping where the water fizzled against the sand, Daryl stood, looking out, hands on his hips. Still didn't much like water, but he stayed here, watching how the light sparkled on the water.

When she felt the water lap at her ankles, Katniss bent down to fold her pants to above her knees. Then she went in knee-deep, the water a shock of cold that she needed; she could still _feel_.

She wasn't sure how far toward the water Daryl went - she didn't look back - but she did look into the vastness of the ocean and for some reason felt even more alone and lonely even with him there.

"Don't fall in," he said. Daryl wasn't the best swimmer. He was ready to reach out and grab her shirt and haul her back. "There water where you come from?"

"I can swim!" She cut him a look but it softened easily. He looked wrecked. Probably just like her.

"Good. You can haul me out," he told her, looking right at her for once. "Don't swim much where I'm from."

She blinked up at him. "I can teach you?" Asked uneasily, not sure how he'd take to that. Maybe she even winced some as soon as the words came out.

"Don't need to know how to swim," he scoffed. "Not like I'm gonna need to outswim a walker, girl." But he wasn't sharp about it. Just the facts.

Katniss shrugged. "Maybe they can't swim?" But then she was looking at her feet and then she was trudging over the waves to get back to shore.

Just then a wave came in and pushed her forward into Daryl's arms. He caught her and steadied her by the elbows. "Careful girl," he said.

"I'm not drunk," she told him but her hands were fisted in his shirt, pulling herself up, scowling more at her own unsteady feet.

"Didn't say you were. Water got ya." He kept a hold on her as he walked back toward the beach. "Walkers can't swim," he finally said. Wouldn't that be a fucking kick in the ass if they could.

"Then you should." Katniss shrugged but was walking slightly leaning against him. "Makes sense."

"What, so I can tread fuckin' water as they wait on the shore?" Daryl snorted. "I'll get on that."

When they were on the sand, he let her go. "You all right?"

"No," Katniss frowned as she looked up at him. "Are you?" Because who were they kidding?

All but rolling his eyes, Daryl thumbed toward the forest and camp. They didn't need to talk about feelings.

Katniss thought that was one thing they could agree on.

But days passed. It wasn't that things got easier - but neither of them expected things to be easier, did they? But it was about getting through.

It was maybe two weeks later when Daryl, tired of not sleeping, pulled Katniss over to his sleeping bag at night, arms around her. "Sleep, girl."

Katniss was surprised at how much such a simple thing as being held felt after weeks of sleeping alone again. She didn't realize how much she craved the touch. After nodding her head, she closed her eyes and fell right to sleep.

There were no nightmares for the first time that night.

From there, that was what happened. And at first that was all it was. One night, lightning lit up the sky, but no rain, and Daryl startled awake with a start, arm instinctively tightening around the girl.

Her arms over his tightened as well, hands digging into his skin for a moment before Katniss blinked her eyes and realized what was happening. It wasn't a cannon, it had nothing to do with the Games. As soon as her body wasn't wound so tight she very slowly turned around and buried her face in Daryl's chest.

A hand tangled in her hair and Daryl worked to catch her breath from the surprise. "S'all right," he said, voice gravelly. "Don't look like rain."

Katniss didn't look up, nodding, listening to the hard thump of his heartbeat, nose to his shirt. Odd how even his scent was now familiar. "If you're sure then go back to sleep," she said, voice soft and muffled even though now she wasn't sure if she could go back to sleep either.

His heart was still beating too hard. Her hair was soft in his fingers. "You too," he said, more quietly.

She put her arm around his middle, hand splayed on his back, cheek to his chest when Katniss said, "okay." She didn't close her eyes and she would bet, so was he.

Somehow it was damned comforting to lie there like that.

They made a habit of going to the hotel once a week or so for a shower and a change of clothes. The familiarity that came between them lowered Daryl's guard. When Katniss came out of the shower, he caught sight of her through a door that wasn't entirely closed; he looked away quickly, face burning.

Katniss didn't notice. But she stood there in front of the mirror, frowning, touching her sides, ribs still showing. She hadn't quite gained the weight back from when Peeta disappeared. She turned quickly around while grabbing the towel to wrap it around her.

That was when she noticed the door slightly ajar. When she came out she had the towel around her, clothes on the bed like always.

Without a word, Daryl passed by her for his time in the shower. He made a point of closing the door tightly, coming out few minutes later clean and shaved with a towel around his waist.

By the time he emerged she was dressed, barefoot, hair not in its usual braid. Katniss looked up at him from where she was sitting on the bed, head tipping to one side, before she spoke. "Do you want to stay here? Tonight?"

She could've suggested he grow another head and Daryl wouldn't have been more surprised. "... you want to?"

She looked back down, shrugging before peeking slowly back up at him and nodding. "Yeah." Katniss kind of smiled halfway, there and gone.

Well, shit. "... why?" he asked in almost a whisper. Was she sick? Something really wrong?

Katniss flinched a little expecting worse, really and not a one word question. Looking up to meet his eyes she then patted the space beside her. "The bed?"

There was a flush to Daryl's face and neck that he couldn't hide. There was another reaction too, that he was furiously not thinking about. Watching her face, though, he sat on the bed, tense, though, ready to spring.

Her eyes narrowed a bit because Daryl was acting just a little bit strange. But Katniss was tired and it would be nice to be warm and indoors. That was when it hit her and she spoke again while crawling closer. "If it feels too much like a - roach motel - we can go?" Her face held concern - for him.

"It's all right," he said, shrugging a little, looking away from her. "C'n stay if you want." But he needed to put on some clothes. "You hungry?" he asked as he stood again, going for a pair of boxers at least.

His agreeing to stay made her smile even though Katniss tried not to. "I'm a little hungry," she replied, pointing to the phone. "...or out there?" Daryl would know what she meant.

That wasn't even open for debate. In. Daryl gestured to the phone, for her to call. Then he stepped into the closet to pull the boxers on at least, a pair of low-hung jeans over that.

She almost asked for lamb stew but lamb stew always brought her back to the cave and Peeta and the kiss that made her want another. Katniss suddenly felt her chest ache, like something coiled around it, tightening, and it was hard to breathe. But she managed to get them food at the suggestion of the one at the other end of the line.

"Should be here in a few minutes," she told Daryl, looking at him, really _looking_ at him for the first time. He looked handsome all cleaned up. Katniss felt the heat to her cheeks once she realized she was staring, then she looked away. "It's a lot of food. I hope you're hungry," she added quietly, still feeling that clench in her chest, and something else that stirred in her unexpectedly.

"Could eat." Daryl watched her too, warily, out of the corner of his eye, like she was an animal that could strike him.

But then he looked at a lot of people that way at times.

He finally sat down on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees. "Those scars you got," he said. "Those from those Games?"

Katniss nodded, slowly lifting her head to look him in the eye. "...and the rebellion … and the explosion that killed my sister..."

That hung in the air for a beat but she didn't look away from him. "I've gotten clawed, bit, burned, cut and shot." Her hand went to her side. "Lost my spleen."

For a moment, Daryl didn't speak, then when he did was to say, "don't need a spleen anyway." And like he'd done with Sophia, he reached out, palming over Katniss's still-wet hair.

"No, I don't," she slowly smiled at him before leaning in against him. "I don't even miss it." Katniss chuckled against his chest, forehead pressed to the side of his neck.

Feeling her right next to him like that made Daryl go still, his fingers in her hair. Still, after all this time, he wasn't one for physical contact, not unless it was to comfort Sophia, or for …

It wasn't that the idea hadn't crossed his mind. But there were more important things, sometimes. Most of the time. "You all right, girl?"

Was she? Katniss wasn't sure. She was feeling all sorts of things, some she couldn't even explain. She closed her eyes and breathed in deep and slow before she pulled back and scooted a bit further. "I'm just hungry." She shrugged, slowly pulling her knees to hug to her chest.

So Daryl left her alone until the food came and when he wheeled in the cart, he did give her a look. "You were hungry, huh?" But he stopped the cart by the bed and took off lids, his stomach growling a little too.

Katniss grinned up at him. "Figured you were," she said, sniffing over the opened plates with a satisfied hum, her mouth watering. They had a really thick burger dripping with cheese for him, pizza to share and a piece of cake. She missed cakes even though it made her think of Peeta and felt that consistent ache.

He reached for the pizza. Even after Sophia left, he liked pizza. He held the slice over his head to eat it, settling again next to her to tuck in. Damn. Cake. Katniss did good.

She watched him take the first bite before Katniss reached for a piece herself. After taking a bite she pulled on it, chuckling when a long string of cheese dangled from her chin. It was odd to be indoors, but it was, in its own way, interesting.

The bed was soft, the air dry and comfortable. It was all right. Daryl ate until he was stuffed though he only ate half the cake. He made sure that she had her half, too. It was good to clean and full; even he would admit that.

After she'd gotten cleaned up again, Katniss went to the window, looking out, cracking it open out of habit before she headed for the bed. She pulled the blanket down and looked at him, like she was waiting to see if it was still okay.

Somehow, being in a bed seemed heavier than on sleeping bags in the woods. But Daryl shucked off his jeans and climbed in, yeah. He laid on his back, an arm under his head. 

Katniss crawled in and laid on her side, back to Daryl, whispering a soft, "good night." The pillow was too soft, the bed, too.

It took a long time to fall asleep, but Daryl finally did only to startle awake a few hours later. The room was dark and his heart was racing. The warmth against his side drew his attention and he turned.

His fingers touched warm skin, sliding down Katniss's arm.

She was still asleep, making a soft mewling sound at his touch while her body moved closer to Daryl's warmth.

When he pulled his hand back, it grazed her breast and Daryl flushed bright red, falling back to his back, hand at his side.

Katniss, while asleep, scowled saying something that sounded much like, 'stay,' and then her arm - the one he was touching - reached over, hand resting on his chest. She stilled again.

It took a long time to fall back to sleep that night.

When morning came, Katniss was sitting on the bed, staring at Daryl. She'd been up a while but didn't want to wake him - she knew he needed sleep. It was like keeping watch only there wasn't any real danger. She just liked watching over him, watching _him_.

But he woke with a start - he pretty much always did, blinking up at her as she came into focus. His voice was craggy when he spoke. "You okay? Sittin' there like a vulture, waitin' for me to croak."

She leaned in close, almost nose to nose with Daryl, Katniss smiling down at him. "You're welcome that I let you sleep in. You needed it." Then, probably a surprise to them both, she closed the distance and kissed his cheek. "I'll order breakfast." Then she was up and off the bed.

Where she'd kiss him tingled. Daryl rubbed at it idly as he watched her go.

That was what he thought of - that first kiss - later. After the rest of what happened. It all came back to that first kiss. Wasn't any other explanation for it. For doors left open, for neither of them bothering to leave to change anymore. But the first time he touched her, Daryl felt everything change.

They were in that damned bed again and both were naked from the waist up. He had his hand on her breast and his eyes flicked to her face as her nipple hardened under his palm, checking to see if that was okay.

Already Katniss's chest was heaving, arching more and more toward his hand, his body. She was staring at his face, hand reaching out feeling the rough stubble on his cheek and then she bit her trembling bottom lip before slowly nodding. It was okay. It was more than okay.

Eyes on her face, Daryl bent down and put his mouth to her. He'd learned a lot from Michonne. How to draw pleasure. He sucked a nipple, toying with the other as he did. He was hard enough to ache; her skin was hot. He scraped his teeth along taut flesh.

Katniss was still trying to bite back any noises she made, teeth digging into her lip parting suddenly to gasp. Her head fell back and she moaned softly, hand to his head, fingers sinking into his hair, encouraging him to keep going.

He didn't stop, even as he was pulling his jeans off and down, kicking them to the floor. Then even as he suckled, he was pulling at her pants, tugging them away. He could smell her. Hands on her breasts, he buried his face between her legs.

" _Daryl_ \--" Her breath stuttered, and her legs parted further for him, arching her back as a louder, drawn out moan left her lips. Katniss could _feel_ him - the way his mouth moved, his tongue coaxing pleasure out of her that hit like a crashing wave, leaving Katniss trembling.

Without any kind of grace, Daryl pushed deep as he could, his hips pushing against hers. "Fuck," he gasped; she was hot and wet and he started moving, wasting no time, needing to come too bad to take his time. The sounds in the room were breathing and skin against skin.

It _hurt_ , but with it came something else, something that made Katniss breathe harder, pant and _moan_. It wasn't anything like being with Peeta but that thought was swallowed up by the pleasure she was suddenly riding in, each thrust making her cling to Daryl tighter and tighter, legs wrapping around his hips.

The bed creaked with Daryl's thrusts - he grunted. It wasn't going to take long; it had been too damned long. He exhaled roughly against her neck when he came.

She was still trembling from the aftermath of her own orgasm, Katniss holding on to him tightly, parted lips pressed to his cheek, gasping harshly.

When finally Katniss pulled back she cupped his face and stared right in his eyes. It did feel like things _had_ changed.

For once, Daryl didn't look away. He didn't say anything, though. He pulled back and out and fell to his back. But he was close, his hand slipping around hers.

They stayed side by side for what felt like a long time. All Katniss could feel was the heat of his body next to hers and her hand clasped with his. Then, very slowly, she curled into him, tucking against his side, lifting their joined hands and she was hugging them to her chest.

The room remained as quiet as they were.

It wasn't something they did a lot. But when they did, it quenched something in Daryl. He would look at her face, the look in her eyes when he moved in her. It got to where he would move slower, deeper, a leg pulled up his chest.

Katniss would pull him closer, hug him tighter and sometimes words would be whispered. They didn't talk about it. They didn't even mention it.

On one of the nights when Daryl pulled Katniss over him, she moved slowly, rising and falling, rocking her hips. She leaned forward, whimpering, her lips touching his. Lingering there.

In the dark, it was easier to look her in the eye, to let her take control. It felt good; damned good. Daryl even grabbed her face and kissed her, eyes open.

More time had passed and what they'd like to think wasn't often became just a bit more frequent. The woods was still their haven, staying there most times, hunting, sleeping side by side.

In the dark they held each other close, their hands would find each other, sometimes their lips.

Then she told him. That she'd missed her last two periods, that she was having trouble keeping food down. Daryl sat on the log across from her, quiet, hands still moving to whittle the stick he'd been working on.

Then he looked away, swallowing hard. "Oh yeah?"

Katniss was looking away, too, frowning. "Yeah," she said quietly. She never wanted to have kids and now here she was, possibly, most likely, pregnant. She hugged her knees to her chest, sitting on the ground, log against her back, staring at the dying fire.

He looked at her then in fits and starts, never quite meeting her gaze. A long few minutes passed like this.

His stick was done and he tossed it aside, folding his knife again, then he stood up. A few steps and he stood in front of her and he crouched down.

She was trying not to look at him, afraid of what she might find. Katniss shrugged slowly then shook her head and peeked quickly up at him. She didn't know. What now?

"Can't be livin' out here with a kid," he said with a shrug. "Roach motel might even make a crib show up."

That made her look up, brows drawn, eyes almost squinted. "What?" Katniss wasn't sure what he was saying. "You want me to go back there?"

"Well, yeah. If you get cravings, guess I'll be going to the damned store." His face was placid, determined.

Her face clearly showed realization as it dawned. They were going back. Together. One corner of her lips lifted very briefly before Katniss nodded. "Okay." But then Katniss was looking out, around, thinking it might not be that easy to leave the woods. She reached out a hand and somehow it found his. "Okay."

What he didn't expect was how she'd jump him six months in. All the time. Middle of the night, even, he'd been half-awake and she'd be climbing on him. But he held her when she cried and got her pickles when she was hungry and when the baby came, he let her squeeze his hand til he was pretty sure it was going to fall off.

And when he held the baby, Daryl felt the whole world shift again.

She lay there, tired, watching, her face void of any expression. Waiting. But he looked calm, some, and he wasn't scowling, much.

"Looks like you," she said, finally, smiling softly.

He never thought he'd have kids, never thought he'd do a lot of things. "Name 'im Merle, huh?" For his brother. The baby's face was calm, it seemed. Wise, even.

"I didn't think we'd name him anything else." Katniss knew. She tapped the space beside her needing to see Merle while held in Daryl's arms.

Sitting on the bed, the baby cradled to his chest, Daryl propped him so that Katniss could see its face. "Hey, mama," he said, even grinning a little bit, just a little, there and gone.

Mama was something Katniss never thought would be a name aimed at her but here it was. "Hi, Merle," she whispered, awe in her voice. "... you already met your Daddy." She smiled at Daryl, then she leaned against his side, watching as a tiny hand grasped her finger.

Daddy. Something he never thought he'd hear applied to him either. Daryl snorted out a soft laugh. But he leaned in, baby held close and kissed Katniss's forehead. She did good. The baby made a few noises then settled again.

Having to drag her gaze away from the baby, she slowly turned her face up, cheek to his shoulder, smiling at Daryl warmly. Her eyes and the look Katniss gave him held so much of her emotions in them yet she remained quiet. They still rarely spoke; they didn't need to.

"Sleep, girl," he said. The word had become an endearment or as close as Daryl got to one, over time.

But Katniss didn't want to sleep. She wanted to stay awake and watch what had now grown into her family. Her eyes grew heavy, though, from the pill given to her to ease the pain.

No longer afraid of her own nightmares, although they still came and haunted her, there were other things - people - that had made their way in her dreams.

Peeta and Prim and Rue and everyone else she had lost, smiling wherever they were, happy for her. For Daryl. Because they might have had a rocky start but they were living their lives better than even they had expected.

Eventually, Katniss did fall asleep, Daryl holding their son the last thing she saw before they, too, were smiling in her dreams.


End file.
